Bits & Pieces
by hoshiko2kokoro
Summary: Bits and pieces of their lives can be pasted together to remember something that once was.
1. Meetings

They met four times that week.

The first time was really the worst. Alfred was simply walking. He wasn't thinking about anything apart from where he was going to and what he was going to do when he got there. He glanced up at the sky, and smiling to see how clear the day was and watching a few birds lazily drift past. Yeah, it was a pretty sluggish day. The sudden warm weather had nestled into every nook and cranny in the town, affecting the people in the strangest of ways. They came outside.

Many were chatting with their neighbors on their porch, drinking a glass of water or enjoying the quiet of the town. Alfred waved at a few people he knew, looking both ways before crossing the street. He decided he would take a shortcut through the market parking lot when he met Arthur for the first time.

Alfred was looking around on the ground for any gum he would have to avoid when he caught a glimpse of color out of his peripheral vision. Snapping his head up, he saw the back end of a small Volvo about to hit him. Without thinking he put his foot out and sharply kicked the back bumper, hoping to alert the driver. But it kept coming.

"Hey! Watch it!" Alfred shouted. He kicked the car once again for good measure.

It stopped violently, and Alfred sighed in relief. The front driver window rolled down, and a blonde head appeared. The driver was a young man with brilliant green eyes, thick eyebrows, and a horrified expression. Alfred would've thought him cute had he not almost been run over by him.

"Oh my God!" the man said in a thick British accent. Okay, maybe he was a little cute. "I am so sorry! I'm not used to driving here! Please forgive me! You're not hurt, are you?"

Alfred shook his head and smiled. "Naw. No harm done. Just look over your shoulder, okay?"

The man nodded. He looked visibly shaken up, but he ducked his head back inside. Alfred turned to start walking again, but then the car started backing up again. Alfred jumped with a yelp, and the car stopped again. He looked at the driver and saw the Englishman thrashing his hands about.

Not knowing how else to react, Alfred just began to laugh.

The second time they met was another run-in; literally. Once again, Alfred was walking towards the same market he had first met Arthur at a few days prior. This time he was actually going to the market, and he hoped there would be no Volvo or Englishman unused to driving in a rural American town.

That got Alfred thinking. What was an Englishman doing in his small town? Foreigners were rare, and many were just stopping by to ask for directions back to the highway. Alfred had only heard a British accent on television, never right there before him. It wasn't anything he thought much of, that's for sure. Alfred quite liked his isolated lifestyle. No one to bother him about what America was doing right or wrong.

It was this kind of thinking that got him in trouble, and he bumped into someone. They let out a gasp in surprise, stumbling back into the gutter of the street. Alfred whipped out a hand to grab them, steadying them so they didn't fall to the ground.

"Oh! It's you!"

Alfred looked up at who exactly he was grabbing hold of. It was the same Englishman he had been thinking of. Alfred laughed nervously again, righting them both to stand correctly before letting go of him. He rubbed a hand across his cheeks, retracting his hand quickly at the feeling of heat on his face.

"It seems we're even now," the man chuckled. He had a pretty smile, and it lit up his entire face, relaxing the tension across his eyebrows.

"I-I guess so."

"I'm afraid I didn't introduce myself properly last time." The man struck out a hand. "I'm Arthur Kirkland."

Alfred took it in his hand, shaking it. Whose hand was clammy? It had better not be his. "Uh, Alfred Jones. I think we should stop meeting this way, yeah? It's a small town. People will question us."

Arthur laughed. "Then it'll be my duty to report it."

He held up a small notebook that Alfred had missed a moment ago. There was a cheeky smile on his face now. "I'm this town's newest reporter."

Alfred had a look of recognition cross his face. "Oh! Yeah! Now I know who you are! I saw your article in the paper."

Arthur furrowed his brow in confusion. "Ah, it's kind of you to say that, but you don't have to lie to impress me. I haven't published anything yet."

Alfred looked up at the sky suddenly. "Shit! I forgot I have to be somewhere!"

The third time they met was only two hours later. Alfred was wandering around the market, killing time. He had nothing much else to do that day. He had already stopped to chat with the deli employees, earning himself yesterday's meat for half-off. The other employees were up front with the sudden lunch rush.

There was something different about this third time. Alfred actually spotted Arthur before he saw him. He was in the dairy aisle, staring at the cheese. It wasn't as if he were actually contemplating buying the cheese, but rather he had simply forgotten where he was. His eyes were vacant and he kept them trained on the label of some Brie import cheese.

Alfred took that moment to watch him. Okay, so he was kinda cute. His eyebrows twitched now and again as if he was thinking and he never once blinked, allowing Alfred free range to look deeply at those eyes. They were such an usual color, but it suited him.

Green eyes, blonde hair, and a British accent. Alfred's lips quirked up into a slow smile, and he wound his way around the aisle to talk to Arthur, but suddenly the man awoke from his daydream. He picked up the cheese without seeing it, dumped it in his basket, and rushed to the cash register.

Alfred only had a moment before he could follow him. There was a line, so he used that opportunity to talk to Arthur.

Or, he would have, if he had the courage to do so. He had no idea what to say. Two hours ago he had run off like an idiot, thinking that Arthur probably wanted to avoid him. Why wouldn't he?

Okay, maybe this was a bad idea, Alfred thought. Arthur was putting his food on the counter and soon he'd be rung up and out the door. Now that they lived in the same small town, they'd surely run into each other, but for some reason, it had to be right now that he talked to Arthur.

But what?

"Twenty-five, forty is your total," the cashier said.

Arthur held out his credit card, but the lady stared at him with a bored frown. "We don't take credit cards, sir."

"What?" Arthur asked, furrowing those eyebrows again. Alfred couldn't help his smile.

"We do not take credit cards," the lady repeated. She pointed at the sign above her that read Cash Only.

Arthur's face paled. He began digging in his wallet, but came up with no cash. He patted himself down and still came up empty. The people behind Alfred were growing impatient. Very soon they would start voicing their annoyance, and Alfred didn't want Arthur to endure that.

He reached into his pocket and whipped out his wallet. He sidled up beside Arthur and smiled when their elbows knocked together and Arthur stared at him with wide eyes.

"Hi!" Alfred exclaimed. "How are you?"

"Uh…h-hi?" Arthur blinked a few times before he collected himself. "I, uh, what're you…?"

"Do you need help?" Alfred asked. He nodded at the groceries.

Arthur flushed. Alfred decided he quite liked that color, and his smile widened. "Yes. I haven't changed all of my Pounds into Dollars yet, and I. I really should have when I was at the post earlier. But my mind just gets away from me."

Alfred laughed. "I've noticed."

"Can we hurry up?" a lady called from the back of the line. "I have other errands."

"So do I!" echoed a man.

Alfred smirked and handed over the correct amount of cash. "Sorry Katie. He's new here. Cut him some slack, okay?"

The cashier, Katie, smiled back at Alfred and took his cash. Arthur watched in shock until his face blossomed into a deeper crimson. He grabbed his bag of groceries and hurried from the store.

The fourth time they met was that night.

Alfred was waiting outside the small diner. He had combed his hair and even changed his shirt. No, he wasn't serious, but it was nice to give a better impression than the one he gave earlier.

Arthur arrived only a few minutes late. He looked to be in a rush, and Alfred wondered briefly if he forgot what time he was to show up. It looked like he had changed too, but his hair was still messy. Alfred didn't mind a bit.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said breathlessly. "Parking is horrendous here. Why are there so many people?"

"Teenagers," Alfred replied. He held the door open and motioned Arthur inside.

They claimed a booth against the far wall. Most of the teenagers were crowding the aisles and the counter space. Alfred didn't want anyone to notice they were together. He especially didn't want to see him as he took Arthur's hand in his.

"I'm glad you agreed to come," Alfred murmured, just loud enough so only Arthur could hear him, though not much else could be heard over the ruckus of the rabble around them.

Arthur smiled shakily, ducking his head as his face reddened again. "I just… In this town… I thought I'd have to hide it forever…"

"Ah, you probably still will," Alfred said. He glanced around, confident no one was paying a couple of twenty-something men in the corner secretly holding hands. "I have. Not even my cousin knows. But… We'll be good, right?"

"Of course," Arthur replied. He smiled a haughty smirk. "I'm the town reporter. If news got out, I can easily erase it."

Alfred smiled widely. "Oh, I think this is going to be a good relationship."

* * *

><p><em>Hoshiko2<em>'s cents: The market scene was loosely based on the market scene from _You're Got Mail_. The car scene was based on my experience last night when a car did almost hit me much like Alfred. I didn't end up getting a boyfriend out of it, though. Boo hoo.

Lemme know what you think. I'm planning on expanding this to a mini series. It will have eventual sex, as well as drama and some angst. Thank you for reading!


	2. Stars

Alfred came into the small office in the mini mall. On the outside, it didn't look like an office, except for a small decal on the front door that read "Forest Post" and had the newspaper symbol of a deer and a tree. The windows were tinted, so Alfred couldn't see inside, but he always knew someone was working. The buildings next to the office were a small café to the right and an even smaller TV repair center to the left. The mid-morning sun reflected off of the cars parked diagonally outside.

He always remembered this when he thought of the newspaper office because of the glare and the fact it always seemed hot outside.

Inside, a low counter separated the front space from the open desks further back. Alfred never knew why there was this counter considering no one ever used the counter for any reason. There were only four desks, three currently empty, and one enclosed office back against the far wall with one window overlooking the front. The blinds were drawn and the door was closed.

Alfred didn't care either way. He made a beeline for the desk up front and to the right. There was Arthur sitting with a stack of papers around him and his head bent low. He was typing furiously on a laptop before him.

"Hey," he said happily.

He sat on the desk opposite Arthur. This desk was tidy with a minimal amount of papers neatly stacked in a single tower and a closed Mac Notebook. Alfred remembered it belonging to the paper photographer. He was rarely present, and Alfred quite honestly couldn't remember his name at all, or even his face.

"What'cha working on?" Alfred asked.

Arthur was known in the office for having a messy desk. Organized chaos, Alfred always thought. Arthur could find anything under the papers littering his desks. Most were unused prints of his articles or his hurried notes from interviews. Post-it notes overlapped the computer screen's edge with dates and phone numbers. Somewhere was an old phone and possibly a stapler and some tape that were ignored an unused by Arthur.

Alfred thought Arthur was cutest when he was working, forgetting there was a note stuck to his underarm. Alfred thought Arthur was cute when he did most things.

Arthur sighed, leaning back in his swivel chairs to smile at Alfred. "It's a piece about the migration of sea animals in the bay. It's dreadfully boring."

"I'll read it." Alfred flashed a smile, earning a wider one from Arthur in return. "Is your editor here?"

His eyes flickered to the drawn curtains.

"Meeting," Arthur replied. "Why?"

Alfred leaned over and captured Arthur's lips in his own. Arthur made that predictable noise in the back of his mouth; a quiet, surprised, and slightly breathless gasp. It made Alfred want to always kiss him.

Their lips moved together, and Alfred's fingers tip-toed up Arthur's arm so he shivered. But they stopped at length. Alfred watched Arthur blinking out of his stupor. Arthur then coughed into his hand with a blush and a secret smile Alfred guessed Arthur thought was hidden. He was terrible at hiding anything.

"Someone could have seen us through the window, idiot," Arthur said with no bite to his tone. He turned back to his work.

"What're you doing tonight?" Alfred asked.

Arthur didn't reply for a moment, but Alfred knew it wasn't from him ignoring Alfred or not hearing him. He was just not thinking. Arthur was always like this. Then, he blinked and returned to the present.

"Sorry?"

"Space case," Alfred teased. "You free tonight?"

Arthur's eyes lit up at the prospect of a possible date, but then his expression dimmed and he ducked his head down. "I have work…"

"Aw, all right." Alfred frowned, but tried to not look more displeased than that. Nothing like guilting his boyfriend when there was nothing he could do. Work was work to Arthur; some of his old city habits still shining through.

Suddenly Arthur smiled again as he lifted his head. He looked at Alfred, putting a hand on his. "Actually… Come with me."

* * *

><p>"Is here good?" Alfred asked.<p>

Arthur leaned forward to peer out the windshield up at the night sky. "Yes. This should do just fine."

Alfred pulled his red pick-up truck over to the side of the road, killing the engine and turning off the lights. Arthur got out and inspected the dark surroundings. They had driven a good few miles out of town where no lights could reach them and the light pollution from Seattle was near impossible to see in the far distance. This far out, the eternal darkness enveloped them.

A band of pearls disguised as stars claimed the sky, and with the moon in a new phase, it was clear for a starry night. Pretty as a picture, Alfred would say.

He hoped in the back of his truck, laying out the couch cushions he had grabbed from his sofa back home. Then he tossed three plush blankets atop them. Arthur clamored over the side of the truck in a less elegant manner than Alfred.

"When does it start?" Alfred asked, lying down and pulling the blankets to his ears.

Arthur pulled his sleeve back to look at is watch. "In a tic."

He lied down beside Alfred, snuggling against his side for warmth. Alfred made sure to tuck all the corners around them for ensured warmth. It was too cold for crickets, so only faint owl hoots and the rustling of the trees from the wind filled their unspoken thoughts.

Alfred shifted so he was on his side, smiling at Arthur. "Why did you move here?"

Arthur' eyes looked at the spot on Alfred's pillow where his hand rested. "I wanted to slow down. Life in London… Competing with everyone. It was too much for me. I want to write, but not to the point I grow crazy."

"So…London huh? You had a lot of boyfriends there?" Alfred bit his lip and hoped Arthur would look at him when he replied.

Looking back, why did Alfred ask that? It's as if he set himself up for heartbreak.

But he did look at Alfred. "No, actually. I had a girlfriend, though."

This soothed Alfred somehow. He had no one Arthur would compare him to.

"Well… she was my fiancée." Well, now that was unsettling, and Arthur reacted quickly to explain. "I-it was two years ago. We came to a mutual agreement that we would not work as husband and wife."

This would stick in Alfred's mind, growing over time from a tiny molehill until it manifested into insecurity and jealousy. But right now it was only a hollow ring in Alfred's ears, and he worked to quiet that part of his memory.

"What about you?" Arthur asked shyly. "A bloke like you…._must_ have…"

Alfred smiled at this. He tried to look at Arthur, but his mind already knew he was going to jumble everything up. So he covered up his cowardice with a smile and a casual tone to his reply.

"Nothing serious. This is a college town. Sometimes guys come down looking for fun…"

Arthur gasped, and Alfred chanced a glance at his horrified look. He probably thought the worst, and would continue to do so for the coming months. And that was his insecurity he clung to, no matter how much Alfred explained himself.

"_You're a bloody slut!"_

Alfred touched Arthur's cheek. "No, listen. I didn't _do_ anything, but you know… Sometimes I did."

"So… any serious relationships?" Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his spot.

A fleeting thought crossed Alfred's mind; maybe Arthur no longer wanted to be here. He shook his head to dispel the idea, and then led that into his reply. "No. Not until you."

This seemed to quell Arthur's initial reaction, and a smile flittered across his lips. "So… This isn't…just some fling…?"

Alfred chuckled and kissed his forehead. "Not in the slightest. I'm serious about you."

Arthur's eyes looked up at him, and the sky was reflected in his irises. Alfred stared into them, into their depths and thoughts of how they were so…so _Arthur_.

"_I fucking trusted you…"_

"So when does this meteor shower start?" Alfred asked feeling a lot more relaxed. He dismissed any of Arthur's lingering doubts.

"It should be soon." Arthur looked to the sky, and then gasped. "Look! There goes one now."

"Oh awesome! Don't forget to write down the start time."

Arthur turned over and reached for a small pocket notebook that he had placed in the bed of the truck. He pulled a pen from the spine of the notebook, and then scribbled down the start time. It was five past midnight.

They stayed that way as the meteor shower really began to pick up speed. Soon, the sky was lighting up from the bright streaks scarring the darkness. There should be music or noise or something, but it remained as quiet as it had been when the couple had first arrived. Alfred rested his head atop Arthur's and thought how perfect it all was.

And later, when he looked back on this day he remembered it all with a romantic fondness that our memories often distort. He would forget about the fact he and Arthur had squabbled on the car ride up, or that Arthur had looked scared enough to cry when Alfred mentioned his flings with the college boys. And he'd make it a point to forget that his jealousy flared up at the mention of a fiancée.

No, right now, this memory was still good. Only a piece of what once was.

* * *

><p><em>Hoshiko2<em>'s cents: I actually had this written up awhile back, but I forgot to upload it. Whoops!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	3. Fuzz

When did we get so close? When did it happen that you stayed the night, and we'd have breakfast in the morning over my small kitchen table? When did I awake to see your smile, but remember your morning breath and frizzy hair instead?

These thoughts arose in Alfred's mind during the day as he ate lunch at the university. He sat in his office, slowly chewing his sandwich as he stared at the window across from his desk. It was odd he was even thinking of these things in the first place. He was perfectly content to be in his relationship, and every day he felt himself falling deeper in love with Arthur.

They had been sleeping together for three months now, and Arthur was already starting to settle into Alfred's apartment, staying longer than just weekends sometimes. Lately Alfred toyed with the idea of just asking Arthur to stay for good. It would make it easier in hiding their relationship. Every morning Arthur would sneak out, making sure his clothes were not the same ones he had worn the previous day, and he walked to his car nonchalantly. His first night over, he had practically run from the apartment at the dawning of the new day, hoping no one saw him.

Their constant struggle to hide their relationship would sometimes slip, and Arthur panicked that someone knew. Alfred, however, was only hiding it for Arthur's sake. Personally, he didn't think most people in the town would notice, or care, or even raise a voice against it. These were small town people who wanted to keep to themselves, and most of them were heading to the college, or heading out of it. But Arthur was adamant in his decisions, saying that his reporter's nose had turned up how people really felt about queer people.

Alfred had once asked, "Do you think they'll run you out on a rail or something?"

And he'd laugh, but Arthur didn't think it was funny. He'd wring his hands and avert his eyes. He always skirted over the issue. He always would in the future too.

"_They'd never take me seriously again…"_

Alfred bit down on a pepper in his sandwich, and jerked his head back at the taste. He coughed and reached for his water quickly, when there was a knock at his door. He looked up to find Arthur standing in the doorway, smiling like a good reporter should.

"Oh, Mr. Kirkland," Alfred started. He took a sip of his water and brushed away the tears that had come to his eyes from the stinging spice. "Please have a seat."

Alfred gestured to the chair before his desk, to which Arthur took. He pulled out a notepad and a pencil, waiting until Alfred's secretary had closed the door. They had been doing this for two weeks now; Alfred's own little concoction in his mind as a way to see Arthur more during the day and to let them have lunch together. They pretended that Arthur was coming to Alfred for an interview for a special report in the paper about the university. So far, it had worked, and Arthur could relax during this small time with his lover.

Arthur pulled out his own prepared meal, not a sandwich, and started eating. "Anything interesting today, love?"

"No, not really," Alfred replied.

He thought of how routine everything had become. How he and Arthur just fit together. How those mundane rituals were their ways of showing each other their affections, even if there were better memories to dwell on. But, sometimes, the most normal of things are the things people remember the most.

Arthur would wake in the morning and brush his teeth, sharing the sink with Alfred or waiting for his turn with the toilet. Alfred would switch places after he was done with relieving himself, and then trudge down the hall to start on breakfast. If Arthur wasn't in a hurry, he'd come join Alfred at the stove and try to help him with the eggs or toast, but he'd end up being shooed to make coffee and tea. Sometimes he'd kiss Alfred's neck, and if he wasn't fully awake, he'd wrap his arms around Alfred's waist, leaning his entire body against Alfred's back as he rested the side of his face on Alfred's shoulder blade. They would stand there in the morning stillness, still in their underwear, or sometimes naked, enjoying their shared heartbeats.

They'd kiss and snuggle in bed, sometimes not making it all the way back to the bedroom and just taking up residence on the couch. Arthur would need a shave as his jaw was riddled with blonde fuzz that Alfred would stroke, thinking about Arthur with a beard. Then Arthur would comment on Alfred's own stubble, and they'd laugh.

Alfred would often think back to Arthur's fingers caressing up his forearm, how it would make the hairs on his arms stick up at just how good he was with ghosting his pads over Alfred's skin. How he'd close his eyes and smile, even when Alfred wasn't going to kiss him. The way the sunlight that filtered through the blinds caught the gold in his hair to make it look like a halo.

And then, Alfred asked, "Will you move in with me?"

At the time his heart had pounded, and he thought this was it. The next step in their relationship had been placed on the pedestal, and Arthur stared at it with wide eyes. For a moment, he looked at what had been offered, but then he took it with a smile and a simple "yes" that he sealed with a kiss and a hand lightly on Alfred's.

So then, how did this too become such a disturbed memory?

* * *

><p><em>Hoshiko2<em>'s cents: Sorry for such a length between this chapter and the last. Yes, this is short, but I assure you the next chapter will not be, and it will also be more important.


	4. Night

The television's glow filled the dark room, enveloping the couple that cuddled on the couch. Alfred had an arm around Arthur and was watching the late night talk show. This was the latest Arthur had stayed over, and his head had started to bob. Alfred kissed his cheek, startling him back into a short lived moment of a semi-awake state.

"Why don't you stay here?" Alfred asked his yawning boyfriend. "It's late and I don't want you driving if you're tired."

Arthur looked at him, slowly waking up. Despite the dark hue of the room, Alfred could barely make out that Arthur was blushing. "Oh… I… well…"

Alfred chuckled. "I won't push you for anything. You can sleep on the couch if you'd like."

"N-no!" Arthur exclaimed. Alfred looked at him, surprised by his outburst, and Arthur ducked his head at the stare. "I… I'll sleep with you."

"I'll try not to steal the covers," Alfred joked. He reached for the remote on the coffee table to turn off the television when Arthur's hand stopped him.

He was still avoiding eye contact and his blush had spread to his ears. "No… I mean… I'll have sex with you…"

The mind always romanticizes memories. Everything looked so rosy, sweet, and sexy when it was really awkward and uncomfortable and far from pleasurable. Arthur was a squeaker, much to Alfred's surprise. And he would tear up often. That was a bit of a turn off. Alfred was more experienced in pleasing a man, whereas Arthur was not. He had only been with his fiancée. It had been hard enough getting the man on his back and telling him that, yes this is how gay men have sex, but spreading his legs was another. Arthur was almost indignant to be the one on the bottom. Alfred had to soothe him with choice and encouraging words and then a firm hand that stroked his cock until he opened up.

But Alfred didn't tend to think that way often. Instead he'd think of when their eyes connected, how they moved together, and how Arthur's hair clung to his forehead having been matted down by sweat. He thought of Arthur's hard breathing and sound of his heart pounding in is ears. He thought of how lovely Arthur was.

Sometimes he'd remember the ugly question Arthur asked that beautiful night. "Am I… Was that better than…those college boys…?"

Alfred looked at him first in shock, and then in disappointment. "What? Why would you…?" He sighed and then shifted onto his side, facing Arthur and looking him right in the eyes. "Arthur, we never did…"

"But you did _something_ with them," Arthur pressed with a hint of desperate affirmation. Alfred knew he'd lose this.

Arthur might be inexperienced and it was a far cry from Alfred's best time, but there was something else there. Something Alfred clung to. It was there in Arthur's eyes and in his hair and on his nose and shaping the outline of his naked form. And it was there where ever Arthur walked and Alfred watched him, or when their hands touched for a minute.

"All of that, every single time, meant nothing to this. This was special… Because I'm with you…"

* * *

><p>The first time Alfred said it was their third time together. Arthur was slowly getting better at having sex, and Alfred found he could handle the high-pitched noises, as long as Arthur would moan his name when he came. Alfred felt that something inside come to the surface and burst out in the form of "I love you."<p>

It was Arthur's reaction he remembers the most. Arthur was shocked, then contemplative, and then embarrassed. Or maybe he was guilty. He didn't reciprocate the same feelings.

"I'm sorry," he started.

"Naw, I know everyone comes to understand it at different times." He brushed aside a stray blond lock of Arthur's hair. "I was just hoping we'd feel it at the same time."

"You do mean something to me," Arthur tried gently. He placed a hand on Alfred's cheek, his eyes searching Alfred's. "You must. I don't open my legs to just anyone."

Alfred started to smile in relief, but then he frowned as he registered just what Arthur had said. "Hey now…"

"No!" Arthur said quickly, flustered by his misunderstood statement. "I! I didn't mean that!"

Alfred never forgot that, though; even when he didn't want to remember. If he were honest with himself he'd know he brought it on himself. He could easily have listened to Arthur's explanation. He could've stopped wondering if Arthur's fiancée made him squeak too.

* * *

><p>Arthur came over drunk one night. He pushed Alfred into the front door's frame and began to hump him, sucking on his neck and making hot groans in his ear. Alfred gasped at his lover's sudden aggression. He tried to pry him off knowing Arthur was too private for such a scene to be noticed, but when that didn't work he just hoisted Arthur into his arms and closed the door. Arthur wrapped his legs around Alfred, making it difficult to maneuver to the bedroom.<p>

Alfred lay atop Arthur, making quick work of their clothes until they were both stark naked. That moment coupled with Arthur's needy advances made Alfred super sensitive. Every touch to Arthur's body sparked something inside him that craved for more. He licked and nipped at Arthur's pert nipples, caressing his taut body, writhing in lusty impatience.

"Arthur," Alfred panted harshly. He gripped at his protruding hip bones. "Arthur…wow…"

"Shush up and snog me," Arthur growled in a feral snarl, biting at Alfred's lower lip.

"Ew, what?" Arthur grabbed his face.

"Kiss me _hard_."

Rather than have this memory be saturated in romance, it was overheated in hot sex. Arthur was dangerous when drunk and horny; and Alfred drank it all in. Gone were the mice noises Arthur would make, replaced now by deep guttural moans and heated pants. His nails and teeth marked Alfred, claiming him. Alfred returned the sentiment.

Normally Arthur fretted about hickeys and love bites being seen. Instead he purred, "Do it so I can show it off and say someone wonderful did it to me."

Arthur always was on his back and he hated being in control during sex as it made him nervous if he was doing it right, but not that night. He climbed atop Alfred, straddling his hips, and gripping the man's erect penis. He told Alfred to sit back and enjoy the "show". Oh, did he ever.

Reaching behind himself, Arthur began to stick his fingers up into him. Alfred watched with wide eyes and mouth agape, swallowing what little saliva he had. Arthur's neck snapped back as he let out a cry of Alfred's name and precum began to slip out of his hot cock.

He had to stop Arthur, so Alfred sat up and shoved Arthur backwards. Then he flipped him onto his stomach, gripping his butt and pulling it upwards towards his face. Arthur looked over his shoulder, confused, until he saw Alfred part his butt cheeks. Alfred dipped his head down and flicked his tongue into Arthur's slightly prepared hole. Arthur clenched himself at the sensation, but soon squirmed and called for Alfred in hoarse moans. Alfred lapped at his hole, giving it a natural lubrication.

Thinking back, Alfred had long teased with the idea of being kinky with his boyfriend, but Arthur's innocent ways made him nervous. He might scare Arthur from his bed. However, seeing him thrash about as he did that night certainly proved him wrong. And they could never go back to what it was before.

Alfred pulled his tongue out of Arthur's ass, sliding his hard penis inside instead. Arthur still had his butt up in the air and his head was pressed into the bed. Alfred, on his knees and holding Arthur up by his hips, thrust into him mercilessly. Arthur screamed, Alfred fondled his balls, and the night exploded into colors. They were hot and heavy and finally it was sexy.

Even now, Alfred can remember how Arthur smelled, when he pushed the pillows to the ground, and when he raised himself higher in a silent plea for more. He reached back and spread his cheeks more, calling for more, and it was just never enough. Alfred bent over him and whispered into his ear the same mantra over and over again. Arthur returned it with a sloppy kiss.

And when Arthur came, Alfred temporarily blacked out as a white haze overcame him. He felt Arthur shudder beneath him, collapsing to the bed, and Alfred followed suit. He took Arthur's still hard cock into his mouth and finished him off. In the back of his mind he was proud that he had tasted Arthur on two sides of his body that night.

The best part came when daybreak arrived. Arthur touched Alfred gently on the cheek with bright eyes. His voice was soft; as if nothing had changed.

"I love you."

At noon Alfred made love to Arthur, explaining that this was not sex; it was different. And it was one thing neither of their pasts could hold over them.

* * *

><p><em>Hoshiko2<em>'s cents: So. Yeah. Sex! I hope you're all following this story! Haha!


	5. Rain

Slowly, the bits and pieces of their relationship flaked off like paint on an old wall in a rotten house. And that was what they were, a dilapidated house, left to disrepair through excuses: too little time, no money, no motivation, or care, or love to do anything. No more effort. And the remaining pieces were off color, an old memory that they squinted at under romantic goggles thinking those times were better than now. They were better then. But in reality, there were so many parts that pointed out their poor attention to work, their flaws and their reluctance to not only acknowledge them, but to accept them. They had to accept themselves as one flawed being in love with another flawed being.

To overlook this was poor judgment on their parts. In a sense, they deserved this, if only to get better in their heads. But it didn't get better, and in the end Alfred should have seen the warning signs.

Arthur left one overcast day. He didn't kiss Alfred goodbye. There was no fight. There wasn't much of anything left at that point. It was just them slipping from each other's grasps.

But if Alfred were honest he'd know he pushed Arthur away. He knew that Arthur recoiled. They were still clinging to their pasts. That was why Alfred still thought of Arthur every time it rained, and wondered where it all went wrong. He'd been thinking for weeks, but there was no one point in their relationship he could blame. There was no fight to end it all and no conversation that was a huge revelation in deciding their feelings for each other. It was a culmination of everything.

Arthur should never have moved from the city. It was obvious by his news articles and how he fit into the small town. The stories he wrote were always so much better than anyone else's. And he was constantly rushing to and from place to another. He was unused to a slower paced lifestyle. Why Arthur even tried to live here was beyond Alfred, but he couldn't deny that he enjoyed himself.

Today, it was raining again. Alfred had the day off, but he wished he was busy instead. He hated being alone. The apartment was too empty and too cramped all at once. Memories of Arthur could be found everywhere from the living room where he cuddled up beside Alfred on the sofa, to the kitchen where he yelled at Alfred for teasing his cooking, to the bedroom that still smelled of their live. Alfred couldn't escape Arthur even after he had already left.

So, he got out of bed, dressed, grabbed three cans of Coke, and got in his truck. Having been led by the rain and the clouds he wound up in Seattle four hours later. He drove aimlessly through the streets until he stopped just outside the Seattle Times headquarters. He sat in his truck, listening to the rain on his car and imagining Arthur's voice. He had such a gentle lilt to his voice when he was happy. That smile always seemed fragile as if he was afraid someone was going to snatch it away from him.

Alfred slid down in his seat and sighed heavily. He had done such a thing.

A short while later, Arthur came rushing down the steps of the building. He unfolded his umbrella and headed up the block, away from Alfred's truck. Now was Alfred's chance. He drove all the way to see him, right?

Yes, just see, not _talk_ to.

However, the rain called to him. He got out of the truck and ran after him. His mind was blank as to what he could say, what he could do, and just what exactly was happening. Although, there was one thought that was a constant in the whirlwind of his mind- Arthur had nearly run him over when they met, there was no way he'd just let that man slip away so easily.

"Arthur!" Alfred yelled. He came unprepared. Arthur hated when he wasn't ready to tackle something important. "Arthur Kirkland! Wait!"

Arthur turned in surprise. His mouth fell open at seeing Alfred running towards him. Alfred stopped just shy of him. He had only run half a block, but he the rain had drenched him, and his normally bouncy hair had flattened to the top of his head, except for his cowlick. He squinted through his rain smudged glasses and gave a weak smile.

"Alfred?!" There was worry laced in with that anger, somewhere. "Are you insane?! You'll catch your death in this weather! What're you doing?!"

"Coming to get you," Alfred replied as he tried to catch his breath.

Arthur didn't retreat. He stared at Alfred, waiting until he had stopped breathing. Then, "Come with me. You're freezing."

Arthur had been on his way to lunch at a quaint café two blocks away. It was obvious he was a regular by how well he knew the menu and how friendly the staff was to him. Alfred couldn't keep any food down, so he opted for just water. Once their food arrived, Arthur began talking.

"So, what do you have in mind?" Arthur asked casually, as if he were asking Alfred about what he wanted to eat. He poured his tea, preferring to watch it than look at Alfred. "It's been four months."

"I know," Alfred said.

"I thought you didn't notice I had even left."

Sometimes, people leave with venom and claws, bruising and scratching their partner as they burn up any hope of redemption in the relationship. But at least you know where you stand in their life now. There are no lingering what-ifs that keep you up at night, tearing into your entirety more than any argument ever could. It's easier to know they hate you if they're blunt about it.

It's worse when someone leaves quietly. There's no room for questions, and only your own fears and assumptions haunt you, giving you answers to questions you never thought you should have to ask. It's painful to be abandoned or betrayed.

At present, Alfred felt abandoned, but then, sitting there across from Arthur who looked away and gripped his teacup tightly, he knew he wasn't truly abandoned.

"I left," Alfred whispered. "I was the one who betrayed you and left."

Arthur looked up slowly, but remained quiet.

"I said things that worried you and never explained myself. I never trusted you with your past. I constantly made you reconsider your decision to go out with me."

"No," Arthur said flatly. He put his hands in his lap and looked at Alfred squarely. "It was not a constant thought, not even towards the end. It just…happened. And I did nothing to reassure you either."

"Then, we can start now." Alfred wished Arthur's hands were on the table. He wanted to lean over and take them into his, smiling as he looked into his eyes, and spoke lovely words that mended their shambled outcome. But this was the end.

"No," Arthur said again. "No, it's not, love. It never can be."

"Why?" Alfred would not let his voice waver.

"Because, I have moved on." Alfred sat and waited for Arthur to explain himself. If he opened his mouth, he might choke on his own swallowed tears. "There is no one else. At least, not yet. In time there may be, but I have moved past you."

"Please, don't…," Alfred whispered. He blinked rapidly, unsure if it was the rain water still dripping down his face or something else. "Please, we can fix this."

"I know we can, but I don't want to." Arthur looked at the table, sighing softly. "I do not hate you, nor do I regret dating you. It was fun. I learned a lot about myself, and one of the things I learned was that…I do not love you."

Alfred wished he could say something that's in all of the sad romance novels: he heard the sound of his heart shattering, that time stopped and the world ended, or that he was sucked down into some kind of emotional black hole. That wasn't the case. He didn't die and he didn't feel like everything in his life had been smashed to pieces. It was, like their relationship, just something that blew out.

He did not feel different than he had a moment ago. Sure, there was a slight, hollow feel to his consciousness, but it wasn't something so magnanimous that he felt unable to get up tomorrow morning.

Arthur hadn't sipped his tea. He watched Alfred carefully. "Are you…all right?"

"I think so," Alfred said at length. "I know I'm sad, but I don't know if it's as sad as I thought I'd be."

Arthur nodded. "Perhaps you too have moved on. You just don't know it yet."

"I don't want to move on."

"There is nothing more you can do." Arthur took a sip of his tea. "Please do not force me into something I do not want to be involved in."

"Can't we stay friends?" Alfred asked. When Arthur flashed his eyes to him, he gave another small smile. "When I mean I don't want to move on I mean…I don't want to forget you. I learned a lot too, and I want to stay your friend. I'd like to stay close."

Arthur thought about this for a moment. His eyes drifted from Alfred's to look at just beyond his shoulder, out into the pouring rain. Alfred wondered if maybe Arthur thought of him when it rained as well. Did he miss him? Did he ever think the same things that kept Alfred awake at night?

"I think I would like that to," Arthur said, finally. He put his teacup down and smiled lightly. "As I said before, I do not hate you. In fact, I do not even dislike you. I doubt we could be anything more than friends, even best friends, but I would still like to be included in your life."

Alfred noticed Arthur had finally put his hands on the table. Long gone was the moment to take them. But still, Alfred felt that pull that he wanted to.

Maybe one day he could, but maybe Arthur was right. It had taken him four months to come down to see him. All that time he had been wrapped up in the pieces of their relationship, clinging to the bits that he thought were important, and forgot that time changed everything. Was he not, at one point, so enthralled with the college boys of his school that loved to come and flirt with him? And was Arthur not engaged, obviously so in love with another?

He wanted to move on. Depression was only welcome for so long.

The rain hadn't let up in some metaphorically foreshadowing event, and it didn't come down harder. It had remained the same through-out the duration of their lunch. When it was over, they exchanged a nice handshake and good-byes; not farewells. Alfred promised to visit again, and Arthur said he would try to touch base with the little town he lived in for half a year.

Driving home, it struck Alfred that this was it. This was his life. He could only remain friends with Arthur. Initially he wanted to cry, and he did, but not to the point he became a blubbering mess on the side of the road. He mourned the loss of Arthur in the morning and on his arm and the kisses and the smiles, but he looked to the days when he could share those moments with, hopefully, someone else. And when years passed and he and Arthur talked about the time they were together, they could enjoy their own little world again. No matter how fractured something may be, in the end, there are always the bits and pieces that remain that can be reflected upon.

Alfred held onto those precious memories, knowing that Arthur would do the same for a while.

* * *

><p><em>Hoshiko2<em>'s cents: This is the end of my mini-series. I apologize for the long wait for this ending, but it was hard to convey exactly how I felt and to get it down in a way that didn't look like crap.

There were fifteen endings to this story, many of which included one of them just dying or having cancer, and only one of them actually getting back together. But I wanted this to be a sad ending. But, is it really all that sad?

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.


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